Nomad Series

Betty Lonely lives in a duplex of stucco on the north bank of a brackish river
Her ears omit the noise from a nearby airstrip her mind floats beyond the snapper boats

Betty Lonely, her green eyes are roughly staring at a point through the sliding glass door
Her heart lives over a drawbridge

Her brain is wet like a throw net

Betty Lonely, she will always think in Spanish
Though I know her Spanish black hair
It will start to fade she sunk her past
Out in the surrounding salt flats
Her maidenhood was lost beneath the Spanish moss

Betty Lonely just talks to her grandbaby
Everybody else she blots them out
But her words stick like a flounder gig her dry laugh is like a gaff

e Hovered With Short Wings

About your reef
Over the hillock crest
A breathlike aviation
Glowing, showing bones
Glowing, showing bones

With much bellowing and rowing
A cello directioning will let you out
Deaf and loud
Let you out

A hungry, hungry awful hunter
A breath, his came asunder
The old dog makes padded cake
As the aged come for me
As the aged come for me